


A Gift of Stars

by aqueentorattlestars



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Miscarriage Scare, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 19:29:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13394685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aqueentorattlestars/pseuds/aqueentorattlestars
Summary: Feyre and Rhysand have a miscarriage scare. Feyre is put on bed rest and Rhysand is the doting mate.





	A Gift of Stars

_Rhysand_.

The chill of her voice seeped into his bones, freezing the male into place as his mate pulled on the bond. Her voice was faint, as if she had only the strength of will to utter out that whispered plea.  He felt her joy guttering out; hope slipping from Feyre’s fingers as she urged again:

_Rhysand. Hurry._

Something was _wrong_.

Panic laced his heart—a thousand possible dangers racing through his mind. He tried to prepare himself, tried to ready himself for what could have struck such a chord of terror in Feyre. Bloodlust hedged his vision in red, fury mounting while he readied to winnow. Whatever d _ared_ to threaten his High lady… Death would be the only escape for what he would make them endure.

Rhysand appeared in the heart of the Rainbow. He was poised to slaughter—ready for the fight.

He could have never been prepared for what he saw next.

Feyre had left that morning with a smile on her face. Proud and glowing in the way expectant mothers did, she’d told him of her plans to go buy new paint and bask in the beauty that was the day.  
  
It was with the colors of the rainbow that his worst nightmare was painted.  
  
Yellow were the flowers that hung from the flowerboxes along the windows.  
Blue was the dress she wore as she tucked her arm protectively over the swell of her stomach.  
Indigo, Orange, and Green stained the bottom of the bag from where her bottles had broken.  
Red blood was what painted the streets of Velaris beneath her feet.  
Violet were the eyes that found Feyre’s face.  
  
Silver coursed down her cheeks as she choked out, “Rhys… I’m scared.”

-x-x-x-x-x-x-  
  


The Mother had blessed her. Hours of observation, of gentle probing, and assessment had put their greatest fears to rest: the child was alive and well. Yet, she would have to take to bedrest for the remainder of the pregnancy.  
  
Adalin, the healer, had been stern in her resolve as she detailed the limitations that Feyre would have to undergo to assure that both she and the child were safe: sitting in a chair only up to one hour, brief walks, not standing for longer than a half hour, very few stairs, no heavy lifting, and –the female had blushed when she looked between her High Lord and High Lady—no intercourse.

Two weeks had passed of this limited lifestyle and already Feyre had been growing restless with it. How was one to paint when limited to only sitting and standing for a short amount of time? And how she longed for the kiss of the wind on her cheeks while she took to the skies on strong wings. Her soul _ached_ for the sweet freedoms she had taken advantage of before.  
  
Rhysand had done his best to ease her prison sentence—as she had so lovingly dubbed it within the first few days of lounging. He waited on her hand and foot when he absolutely did not have to be attend to their court.  
  
Yet she still felt _trapped_.  
  
Nestled in his arms, Feyre wrestled with the notion of being prisoner to her own home. Idly, her hand rubbed over her stomach where their babe had been moving as restlessly as she.  
  
Rhys pressed a kiss against her shoulder, speaking quietly as his hand rested over hers, protective over his family, “Feyre darling.”  
  
“Hm?” she responded, blue eyes trailing to the window of their bedroom in the townhouse.  
  
“You’re upset.”  
  
He knew her too well. Could feel the strain on the bond to know that her heart was at odds with itself. A second kiss to her neck had Feyre beginning to navigate the emotions that stormed her soul of late, “It’s misery, Rhys. Being trapped in here day and night… Yes, yes. I know I can go to the roof and visit Elain’s flowers. Or take a short walk… But… I miss our flights. I miss being _out_ in Velaris. I miss being able to paint for hours on end. I miss touching the stars.” A frown pulled at her lips as she asked, “Am I selfish to want those things? Am I already a bad mother for _wanting_ to do more than sit?”  
  
Gently, ever so gently Rhysand turned her over to face him. Calloused fingertips caressed her cheek before he pressed a kiss to her forehead sweetly, “No, my darling. You’re not. I promise that to you, Feyre.” His thumb brushed away a tear that threatened to spill from the corner of her eye as the fae kissed over her cheeks, “You’re already an incredible mother. And I am _proud_ of you. I know… I know you grow tired of this. But it’ll be over soon, love.” His hand moved down to rub over her stomach that looked as if it were near bursting, “And I promise… As soon as you are ready, we’ll take to the skies and fly until the break of dawn.”  
  
She melted beneath his words, the doting way that he loved on her and their unborn child. A sighw as pulled from Feyre’s lips, “Thank you, Rhys… I can handle a few more weeks. I just… Wish I could see more than these four walls.”  
  
“Close your eyes.”  
  
“ _Rhys_ ,” Feyre protested, glaring at him, “I’m not in the mood for games.”  
  
His grin was downright wicked when he patted her ass, “I seem to recall you _loving_ some of my games, Feyre darling.” A laugh and a kiss to her cheek, “I promise. It’s not a game. Please, Feyre, close your eyes. Just for a few seconds.”  
  
Unamused, she finally obeyed her mate’s request.  
  
His work began the moment her eyelashes brushed the tops of her cheeks.  
  
Darkness covered their room in an ebon blanket. A velvet drape cloaking their every inch while starlight beaded itself in a brilliant array. The stars glittered in silver, white, and blue—dancing upon their obsidian stage.  
  
“Open your eyes, Feyre,” he murmured against the shell of her pointed ear.

A myriad of emotions floated across her face as she gasped in delight at the beauty that greeted her. Words failed her as the High Lady of Night Court leaned back against her mate’s chest, watching in wonder as she floated amongst the night skies that had become her home forevermore.  
  
It was only as sleep began to claim her did Feyre whisper dreamily, “You gave me the stars.”  
  
The male smiled into her hair, knowing she had already drifted to sleep, as he added, “And you gave me my dreams.”  


**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Feysand piece!  
> I'm a little nervous about it.  
> But I tried to fulfill this Tumblr Request to the best of my ability. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy it!!!


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